You should have claimed her,the sivot within me snarls a tempest of fury and primal instinct. But even in the face of certain doom, I suppress it, unwilling to surrender to my beast.
My mind drifts to Jules, her presence a beacon in the encroaching darkness. Her image ignites an electric pulse of a connection I forcefully suppress, burying it within the depths of my being. Yet here I am, trapped, burdened by the weight of my decisions. I do not yield—not to dungeons, not to generals, and certainly not to the fatalistic whispers of despair that claw at my resolve.
A flicker of resolve ignites within me, a spark in the endless night. I refuse to let my story end in this forsaken pit. With each passing second, my determination grows and forges into metalloid. I will escape. I will reclaim my freedom.
The air in the dungeon is stale, thick with the scent of sulfurized iron and unwashed bodies. It claws at my throat, a reminder of the bleakness that surrounds me, and I'm not alone.
Two Stryt warriors stand guard outside my cell, their massive forms nearly filling the corridor. They're statuesque, almost part of the structure itself with their slithering scales that shimmer under the fungus light. Their eyes are fixed on me, unblinking and cold, weapons at the ready, a silent threat that's all too clear.
"Enjoying the view?" I throw the words at them, voice laced with the venom of defiance. They don't respond, but I can see it in their posture, they're itching for a reason to use those blasters.
The sivot within me growls, its frustration a living thing,You should have claimed her.
Shut it,I snap internally.We'd be just as trapped, tethered to a mate.
Trapped? Or free?The sivot challenges, pushing against my mental barriers.With her, we would be unstoppable. You've tasted her essence; it calls to us.
Freedom doesn't come with chains, no matter how enticing they might seem.I pace the tiny space, each step echoing off the walls. My corium itches, a constant reminder of the beast I carry within. A beast that now hungers for a connection I'm terrified to forge.
Claiming Jules is not a chain, she is our fated mate.The sivot's anger pulses through me, a tide of primal need that threatens to drown my resolve.
I am the maker of my own fate,I retort, even as I feel the pull, the undeniable draw to the female who's turned my world upside down.I won't be bound by long-dormant primal instincts of a feral beast.
Then we will die here, alone,the sivot hisses, its impatience a sharp edge within me.
"Until again, Jules," I whisper, not sure if it's a promise or a plea. Her image burns behind my closed eyelids, fierce and beautiful. But I shove it away, focusing instead on the guards, the walls, the reality of my confinement.
Until again, Star Maverick,the sivot mocks me.Champion of denial, slave to fear.
Better a slave to fear than a puppet to fate,I counter, feeling the tension coil tighter around me. The battle between my desire for autonomy and the sivot's yearning for union rages on, an internal war with no end in sight.
The sivot's presence simmers, a silent rebuke to my impatience. I pace the confines of my cell, each step a heavy beat that builds my frustration. My thoughts cycle through escape plans, each more desperate than the last.
The cold of the dungeon seeps into my bones, a constant reminder that time is slipping away like grains of pink sand through my clenched fists. My sivot stirs within, a restless force that should be my salvation, yet it remains frustratingly dormant beneath my skin.
“Blinking dund,” I growl under my breath, the words echoing off the damp stone walls. "Are you waiting for an invitation?" I spit at the creature inside me. "They're going to slice my head from my shoulders! Is that what you want?"
Better dead than a life without my Jules,my sivot’s reply remains unyielding.
As the shadows lengthen and the first distant sounds of the preparations for my demise reach my ears, doubt claws at me. Time is a fickle ally, and mine is running out.
JULES
I crouch low and peer through the bottom edge of the viewport, ensuring I remain hidden from view as the alien spacecraft towing Behtu’s ship lands, docking alongside a row of similarcrafts. My hand automatically reaches for the blaster gun secured in its harness across my chest. The wide leather strap engulfs me, but I feel comforted by its weight against my skin. Both items were acquired from Behtu's room, a stroke of luck that now has me feeling like a child playing dress-up with her father's belongings.
We’re parked on the outskirts of an alien metropolis that sprawls like a living organism under a sky choked with ruddy smog. The tapestry of jagged structures bears no resemblance to my beloved Manhattan, twisting upward in grotesque spirals, their surfaces slick and darkly iridescent under a sky painted in bruised purples. Sparkling city lights are absent here, replaced by a darkness that swallows everything in sight.
A shiver ripples down my spine, not from cold but from a creeping dread trying to seep into my bones. I wrap my arms around myself, trying to shake off the foreboding that clings to me. The city beyond pulses with its own rhythm, slow and predatory. This place feels wrong, a landscape tinged with despair and danger.
The alien ship's metallic hum fades into an ominous silence as the ramp descends with a hiss. My breath catches in my throat and my heart pounds against my ribs as every inch of my skin prickles with anticipation, unsure of what to do next except wait and watch.
Robed figures emerge from the shadows, scurrying toward the alien craft with an eerie reverence. Hooded heads bowed low, their movements synchronized and ritualistic, an unsettling dance orchestrated for the arrival of the spacecraft.
My gaze locks on Behtu as he's manhandled down the ramp by the aliens whose oily scales glisten under the faint glow of the port lights.
"Behtu," I whisper, though he cannot hear me through the viewport.
His powerful frame, so full of life and defiance, now struggles to keep upright, his footing drunkenly clumsy. Even under the influence of whatever drug they subdued him with, defiance radiates from him as he tries to jerk his arms out of their hold. The sight of him being treated so abhorrently ignites a fierce protectiveness within me.
